


The Ice in Your Eyes and the Fire in Your Soul

by oh_mr_adams



Category: 1776 (1972), 1776 - Edwards/Stone, American Revolution RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow(ish) Burn, i'll put new tags as i update it, insecure boys in love, just... boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-06 21:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11609118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_mr_adams/pseuds/oh_mr_adams
Summary: It hurt like a punch to the face for Edward Rutledge to realize he was in love. It was definitely not something he was used to.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ari (ily)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ari+%28ily%29).



As Edward Rutledge entered the State House, that early Friday morning, he noticed two things. The first, a distinct lack of John Adams, his disruptive, piercing voice was nowhere to be heard. Today was already off to a good start, he mused, with a small smirk playing on his lips. He stepped into the large room, sunlight streaming in through the windows. Even though it was still morning, the room was damnably hot, and Edward groaned inwardly at the thought of how it would only get hotter. The second, was a newcomer, a stranger, in a dark blue tailcoat being seemingly interrogated by Hopkins, the Congress’ resident alcoholic. He momentarily pitied the poor man. Edward leaned against the door for a moment, casually resting one hand on his waist as he watched the interaction play out before him.  
  
“So tell me, doctor,” He heard Hopkins say, leaning in close to the newcomer, “Where does Georgia stand on the question of independence?”  
  
As the man opened his mouth to talk, almost without realizing it, Ed cut the stranger off while casually striding across the room, his usual animated gait in full affect.

“With South Carolina of course.”

  
The newcomer whipped around to face Edward, his dark eyes widening in surprise at the other delegate’s sudden arrival. The smile on Ned’s lips faltered for only a moment, startled at the sudden uprising of butterflies in his stomach as he met the stranger’s eyes. Ned blinked a few times and the casual smile returned albeit with a slight air of uneasiness. Looking into the stranger’s dark eyes he felt warmth flooding his chest, and fought to maintain his usual jaunty composure. A warm smile flitted onto the stranger’s face and time seemed to stop for a moment. He paused to take everything in.  
  
Well tailored clothes, not flashy but still stylish, the man was clearly of some wealth. Thick, dark hair, greying slightly, tied carefully with a silk ribbon in the back. He must have been in his late forties, obvious from the silver patches of hair on his temples and the lines under his eyes. He was seemingly the exact opposite of Edward, and had a warm, calm air about him that both made Edward feel oddly at ease, and excited every nerve in his body.  
  
“Ah, Neddy, good morning!” Hopkins exclaimed, rousing Edward from his thoughts. “Neddy, come over here and shake the hand of Dr. Lyman Hall of Georgia.”

 

Edward’s heart lurched in his chest, and for once he found himself at a loss for words as Hall’s warm, slightly calloused hand held his tightly, before pulling away. Edward felt a pang of hurt as the other man pulled his hand away, feeling like the brief connection was over far too soon.

Ned felt almost disgusted with himself, allowing himself to be so utterly enraptured by this total stranger. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bothered to think so deeply about someone other than himself. The thought left a cold pit of uneasiness in his stomach. He shook the feelings away and the usual offhand smile returned to his face. He jumped a little as Hopkins clapped him on the back.  
  
“Doctor Hall, this here is Edward Rutledge, from…. Whichever Carolina he says he’s from. God knows I can’t keep ‘em straight.”  
  
Ned laughed quietly despite himself, feeling his self-control gradually return to him. His usual debonair smile flashed across his face and he ran his tongue across his teeth as he turned back to face the doctor. Hall blinked slowly as they made eye contact, not smiling, or frowning, just cautiously looking Ned up and down.  
  
“A pleasure, Doctor Hall,” Edward’s deep, smooth voice broke the silence.  
  
“Your servant, Mr. Rutledge,” Hall replied raptly. He spoke with a fairly northern accent, which caught Edward by surprise, considering the man was from Georgia. Hall spoke flatly and brusquely, not seeming to care much for Edward outside of the usual formalities. It was a sobering thought for him; he was used to people adoring him for his natural charm. He bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at the floor, not sure what to say.  
  
“Well, you’ve met the long and short of it now, doctor,” Said Hopkins, breaking the awkward silence once again. “Neddy here is just a lad, he’s the youngest of us.”  
  
“Except for Ben Franklin,” Edward replied quietly. Hall had almost laughed but was interrupted by-  
  
“MCNAIR!”

 

“YOUR RUM!”  
  
“Well where did you go for it man? Jamaica?”  
  
Edward gave his usual calm smile at the two men’s usual antics, while Hall seemed vaguely confused, albeit amused. He smiled and gave a quiet laugh, the sound hitting Edward like a punch to the chest. He swallowed, utterly confused at why his heart was racing and why he felt like he was going to be sick. He gritted his teeth in an attempt to force his body to calm down and, without realizing it, gently rested his hand on Hall’s bicep. Hall immediately whirled around to face him, blinking a bit in surprise like a puppy that had just been picked up by a stranger.  
  
Edward wracked his brain thinking of something to say. “Come, doctor, I’m sure you’re eager to meet your colleagues from the south.”    
  
Lyman smiled at him and nodded, and the subtle look sent waves of warmth through Edward's chest. Looking into Hall's dark, and penetrating eyes made Ned feel strangely vulnerable, in a way that was alien and confusing to him. Still, there was no denying the way that the man's gentle smile made Edward's heart leap and made him smile reflexively in return. It was only after a few moments of that shared look that Edward realized his hand was still resting on Hall's arm. Suddenly flustered, he pulled it away and rested it on his own hip, before guiding the other man towards the door, where a small group of well-dressed men were waiting.  
  
"And I'm sure they're also excited to meet you. This is the first time Georgia has actually sent a delegate, you know." Ned searched for something to say, to fill the awkward void of silence. Hall just nodded and gave a hum in response. Rutledge swallowed, and realized he was sweating more than usual. He cringed. He must look like a bumbling idiot, he reasoned with himself. What the hell was wrong with him?! He'd never been like this before, with anyone. He was Edward Rutledge, the calm, cool, Southern gentleman that everyone looked up to. He didn't fall in love. People fell in love with him.  
  
Dammit.  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

By the end of his first day in Congress, Hall was reeling. He’d seen one fight, one near death, one gun go off, and countless screaming matches. And while it wasn’t entirely horrible, his head was pounding as he laid in bed inside his darkened apartment. The accommodations weren’t too bad, he considered, a few windows, some sparse furniture and a decent amount of space. It was at least better than the closet he was living in during his time studying to be a doctor. A single candle flickered on the nightstand next to him as he gently massaged his temples in hopes of curing his headache. He loosened his cravat. Philadelphia was too damn hot. One foot dangled off of the side of the bed as he stared up at the ceiling.    
  
“Well, Lyman, here you are,” He said to the empty room, “Exactly where you wanted to be. I think.” He sighed loudly, before swinging both legs onto the floor and pushing himself up off of the bed. He stretched, before slowly walking over to the window. With a grunt, he pushed it open and leaned out into the hot, humid night. Resting his chin in his hand, he paused to consider his earlier interaction with… what was his name?… Rutledge. Edward Rutledge. Lyman smiled to himself.    
  
Edward was… beautiful. Eyes like clear chips of ice and freckles scattered across his cheeks and hands. His hair was a bit… odd, but a charming, warm, ginger color. He was perfectly well behaved, if a bit aloof, and had a natural charm that made Lyman feel like he’d known him for years. Soft, freckled cheeks and lips like rose petals...   
  
Lyman scoffed at himself and shook his head, in somewhat of an attempt to physically shake the thoughts from his brain. He was too old for this, dammit. He ran a hand through his greying hair and gave a quiet, distressed groan into the night. He watched the gas lamps flicker down below, the streets entirely devoid of life. He could hardly believe it was the same bustling city he’d witnessed a few hours ago. Fireflies flitted around in the darkness and moths swarmed the gas lamps. The occasional horse and rider trotted down the cobblestone street, the sound of hooves on stones echoing into the warm night.  Blinking tiredly into the starry sky, he turned a thought over in his mind. Ever since his wife had died he’d been alone, desolate. Miserable. Perhaps it was time to start again. Then again, he couldn’t think of someone who’d want him. He was a lonely, depressed, tired old man with hardly anything to live for.    
  
“Oh, don’t be so depressing,” He said to himself.

 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

 

On the other side of the city, Edward Rutledge was pacing the length of his bedroom furiously, biting his nails and running his fingers through his hair. He pulled out the silk ribbon holding his hair up, and the ginger locks spilled down over his shoulders. With a sigh, he dragged his fingertips through his soft hair in frustration. Pacing from the door to the window on the opposite side of the room, his winced and gave a hiss of pain as he felt a splinter of wood get stuck in his foot. He collapsed on his bed in annoyance, burying his head in a pillow which muffled the sound of his frustrated growls.    
  
“Damn it. Damn him.” Edward growled. Today’s meeting had gone over as usual, with Adams and Dickinson at each other’s throats. But Edward could hardly pay notice to them, not with the only member of the Georgia delegation taking all of his attention. He rolled over in his bed, a childish pout on his face and he stared up at the ceiling. The room was illuminated by a set of candles on his desk and the smell of burning wax filled the room. He grimaced when he felt himself beginning to sweat and loosened his cravat, before tossing it onto the floor next to him. He did the same with his waistcoat and stockings. For a man from the south, he was damnably sensitive to the heat. Giving a pathetic sigh, he grabbed a pillow from next to his head and held it tightly to his chest.    
  


Every time he closed his eyes, that smile was all he could see. Infatuation flooded his brain, utterly overwhelming him in a way he’d never felt before.  Those dark, piercing eyes, like the night sky, glinting, flecked with stars. Just the thought of them brought a smile to Edward’s face. His warm, loving smile and lighthearted laughter had been forever imprinted into Edward’s brain. He gave a contented, yet tired sigh, and shook his head.   
  
“God, dammit, Edward. What’s happened to you? You’ve known this man for one day and you’re already smitten. Disgusting,” He said to himself, sounding vaguely like John Adams. He smiled tiredly at the thought. Just imagine what Adams would have to say about this.    
  
_ “You’re a grown man! Stop pining after him like a thirteen-year-old girl!” _ He imagined him saying. He laughed out loud wistfully. For once, he sort of wished Adams were here, to smack him upside the head and tell him to get it together. Rutledge rolled over onto his side, immediately saddened at the hopelessness of it all. Hall was so… refined. Maybe not in his dress or in his wealth, but in his mannerisms. And no matter how much he tried to hide it, Rutledge was barely more than a kid. He was almost thirty, sure, but damn was he immature. There’s no way he’d settle for him. Sure, he was rich, owned hundreds of acres of land, but what did he really have to offer? He was self-obsessed. Insufferable. Unlovable. Edward sighed, defeated by himself once again. Still the memory of Hall’s smile, his laughter, his eyes, god, those eyes… A wave of warmth and affection overflowed him and he buried his face in a pillow to hide his smile, though he wasn’t sure who from.    



	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Lyman arrived earlier than everyone else, same as the day before. The State House was utterly quiet and somewhat colder than the day before. A few windows had been cracked open, and a cool breeze wafted through the large room. Lyman shivered. It seemed to him that he had a habit of showing up early. Earlier than everyone else except…   
  
“Mr. Rutledge! I hadn’t expected to see you here this early.” 

 

Edward had been dozing off in the corner of the room. He’d wanted to show up early, in hopes of being alone with Lyman, but perhaps coming in at 5 a.m. was a bit  _ too _ early. The sound of Lyman’s voice snapped him awake and he whipped around to face him. Blinking rapidly, he tried to remember where he was. He noticed a small puddle of drool on the table in front of him, and his cheeks went pink as he stared up at the doctor.   
  
“Yes, good morning, Doctor Hall. I arrived early to… get some work done,” He lied.   
  
Hall chuckled warmly. “Yes, it certainly looked like you were.” Rutledge’s already pink cheeks went redder as Hall continued, “You know, I was in here for half an hour before I decided to wake you up.”   
  
Rutledge sputtered and shot up from his seat, his face entirely flushed with embarrassment. Hall laughed out loud and Rutledge couldn’t hold back a huge smile.    
  
“D-damn it, Doctor…” Rutledge said with a nervous smile, staring down at his buckled shoes as he tried to find something to say. Hall was still laughing quietly, the sound sending waves of warmth and affection through Edward’s chest. His hands were shaking slightly, out of both infatuation and embarrassment. He sat down shakily and didn’t look back up at Hall until he indicated to the chair next to Rutledge.   
  
“May I?” He asked calmly. He’d finally stopped laughing, but a hint of a smile still twitched on the corners of his lips. The tips of his fingers gently grazed the back of the chair, politely asking to sit down. Edward tried to force the words to come, but instead, he simply nodded, his attention suddenly completely taken by a small ink stain on the table. Lyman quietly slid the chair out from under the table and sat down, resting one foot on the opposite knee and setting a stack of parchment on the table in front of him. Edward spared a momentary glance over at him. He was dressed much more elegantly than yesterday, though still in the same shade of dark blue. He looked good in blue, Edward noticed. A strand of dark grey hair slipped out from his neatly combed bangs and hung in front of his eyes. He glared at it momentarily and tucked it back behind his ear. It slipped free again and he sighed, defeated. His foot had slipped from its position on his knee and was tapping the floor rhythmically. He twirled his pen absentmindedly in his fingers, work obviously the last thing on his mind. He broke the silence with a heavy sigh.

  
“So Edward,” He turned to face Rutledge, no single emotion particularly evident on his face, “What’s the real reason you came here so early? Because you obviously weren’t working.”   
  
Damn. Well, it wasn’t like he’d put much effort into his facade, to say the least.    
  
“I couldn’t sleep.” It technically wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t, in fact, sleep, due to the crushing infatuation with this man that had taken over his brain. Hall raised an eyebrow at this, placing his pen down on the table and lacing his fingers together, resting his chin on his hands.   
  
“Insomnia?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.   
  
“Yes,” Ed blurted out. Now, this was a lie. He grimaced. “Well.. no. I was just… thinking.”   
  
It was so faint he could have imagined it, but Edward could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile on the doctor’s lips.   
  
“About what?” Hall cocked his head, resting it in his hand and gazed into Edward’s eyes, like he was actually curious what Edward had to say. Edward looked away.   
  
Damn. Damn him. God damn the man. He couldn’t tell him, of course he couldn’t. Just imagine how he’d react. He’d probably never talk to him again. Edward swallowed, looking more and more uncomfortable with each passing second. He couldn’t just lie to his face, Edward was an honorable and noble gentleman. He didn’t lie.   
  
“Lots of things.” Lyman Hall. Kissing him. Getting married to him. Making out with him. In his defense, there was a lot of things. Both of Hall’s eyebrows raised in concern.   
  
“Anxiety?” 

 

Edward groaned and slapped the man’s shoulder playfully, rolling his eyes. His usual offhand manner was returning, Edward noticed. That was good.    
  
“I get that you’re a doctor, but if you could go five minutes without trying to diagnose me, that would be great.”    
  
Hall gave a surprised “Oh!” And smiled bashfully, staring down at the table.   
  
“Yes, that’s a habit I’ve been meaning to kick.” He looked back up at Edward, an awkward look of apology shadowing his face. “Sorry if I’ve been intrusive. I had no intention to do so.”   
  
Edward shook his head with a calm smile. “No, no, you’re fine. It’s… nice to know someone cares.” Edward winced a little. Perhaps that was a bit much to say. He didn’t want to come off as pathetic. He cautiously looked over at Hall, hoping he hadn’t noticed what he said.   
  
Hiding his face from Edward, Hall stared off into the far corner, his cheeks completely red with a mixture of embarrassment and… affection. He scowled. He shouldn’t be feeling affection. He was too damn old for this. He sighed, louder than he’d hoped to.  Edward looked over at him, with the same look of concern Lyman had given him earlier.   
  
“Lyman? What’s wrong?” 

 

Lyman bit the inside of his cheek.    
  
“Nothing,” He replied slowly, “I’m just… thinking.”    
  
The look of concern on Edward’s face immediately changed to a smug grin. It was his turn to interrogate. Edward shifted a bit in his seat, so he could better face him.    
  
“About what?” He asked, mimicking Lyman’s questioning tone. Lyman scowled, seeing where this was going. He rubbed his thumb along his jaw.   
  
“Lots of things,” He replied matter-of-factly. Edward grinned brightly, light seemingly radiating from his smile. Hall had to look away. Waves of warmth and tenderness overflowed him and his eyes wandered back to Edward’s face against his will. His pale, blue eyes glittered with amusement and soon, Lyman found himself smiling too. He gazed softly at the light scattering of freckles that decorated Edward’s beaming face. It was like staring directly into the sun. Bright and beautiful, overwhelming, far too much for one man. He blinked and turned away, his eyes burning. He realized he’d been holding his breath.

 

The silence was broken by a piercing voice from the back of the room.    
  
“Sweet Jesus, you two are here early.” 

 

Lyman whipped around so quickly it sent a sharp pain up his neck. Edward looked equally shocked, like he was a child, just caught with his hand in the cookie jar. McNair stared at the two of them, shrugged, and set about replacing the ink wells on each of the tables. Lyman coughed, his cheeks turning pink, and stood up, pushing the chair back under the table.    
  
“I’d best… get back to work,” He stated offhandedly. The smile disappeared from Edward’s face.   
  
“Yes. I should as well.” He turned away, his attention once again fixated on the small ink stain on the table cloth. A blush crept up from his cheeks to his ears. What was he thinking?! Flirting with another delegate. Although things were going well… He scoffed.   
  
That damnable custodian.


	4. Chapter 4

Saturday’s Congressional meeting had gone down rather plainly, from most of the delegates’ perspectives. Richard wasn’t there, so it was noticeably quieter, a seemingly more professional setting. Adams had hardly spoken a word, and was sitting at the Massachusetts delegation table, writing furiously. The rest of the room had a lazy air about it, men were simply sitting in their chairs, fanning themselves. A few talked quietly with each other. Golden afternoon sunlight shone in through the windows, a sign that it was late afternoon. The heat had only gotten worse and coats had been thrown over the backs of chairs, far too hot to be worn. Rutledge seemed to be the worst victim of the heat wave. He kicked his shoes off under the table and loosened his cravat. Joseph Hewes, his neighbor, and by some consideration, his underling, gave him a knowing smirk.  
  
“It’s a good thing we have a doctor here, ya know. For when you die of heatstroke.”   
  
Edward rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair to survey the room. Sherman and Witherspoon were talking and laughing quietly in one corner, Franklin and Hopkins in the other. Dickinson and Wilson were muttering in hushed tones and Adams was obviously leaning over his desk in hopes of hearing what they were saying. Thomson had fallen asleep at his desk and Hancock made no effort to stop Livingston from writing on his face. Edward smiled tiredly to himself. Still, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the Georgia delegate off of his mind. He thought back to Hewes’ earlier statement, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he thought about Dr. Hall… examining him. Taking off his cravat and slowly unbuttoning his shirt, his strong, calloused hands grazing Edward’s bare skin…  
  
“Hey, Neddy!” Hopkins’ voice pierced the dull murmur of the room and caused Edward to yelp as he was roused from his fantasy. A few delegates laughed quietly as Ned shot up from his seat, his cheeks burning red. Hall didn’t seem to notice. Forgetting his shoes under the table, he straightened his waistcoat and walked over to where Hopkins and Franklin were sitting, laughing quietly, with Hopkins’ arm draped lazily over Franklin’s shoulders. Rutledge stood over the two men, trying his best to appear intimidating, though this was quite hard without his shoes on.  
  
“Well, Mr. Hopkins? What is so important that you needed to rouse me from my… work?”   
  
Hopkins snorted. “Oh, work, was it, Neddy?” The blush returned to Edward’s face and he folded his arms, scowling at the two old men.  
  
“Keep it down!” He hissed, causing Franklin to laugh even louder.  
  
“Mr. Rutledge, you looked like a schoolgirl having her first crush,” Franklin said quietly. 

 

Rutledge blinked. “I’m no schoolgirl,” He muttered, “and this isn’t my first crush.” His southern drawl was amplified by his hushed tone.   
  
Hopkins scowled. “Name one other, then.”    
  
The request stopped Edward in his tracks, but he quickly waved it off. “Shut up. What did you call me over here for?”    
  
Franklin smiled smugly. “We just want to talk. It’s been a while since we’ve had any good conversation. Nice weather we’re having,” He remarked with a smile. Rutledge rolled his eyes.   
  
“The weather is terrible and you know it. What do you want from me?” He paused for a moment, “And how did you know I have a…” He didn’t want to say the word, “...Love interest?”    
  
Both of the old men smiled menacingly. “It’s fairly obvious, Neddy,” Hopkins replied bluntly. Ned blushed again, looking vaguely panicked and Hopkins craned his neck to look over at Hall, who was furiously scribbling words down on a piece of paper, crumpling it up, and trying again.    
“Though I don’t think he’s noticed. A bit dense, that one.”    
  
Edward sighed, looked defeated. “How am I supposed to tell him? I’ve never… dealt with this before.” Franklin shrugged.   
  
“Oh, just be casual. What with all your southern charm I’m sure you can handle it.” He winked.   
  
  
Half an hour later, Edward was sitting back at his table, tapping his fingers rhythmically on the tablecloth and occasionally brushing his bangs out of his eyes. From the sound of it, Lyman was still writing, throwing his writing away and repeating the process. Edward turned around slowly to look at him, a smile instinctively lighting up his face. He felt butterflies in his stomach from the amusement of seeing Lyman writing so furiously, his face scrunching up in a way Edward found to be entirely adorable, and the way his eyes widened in defeat before crumpling up his paper and tossing it to the floor. Edward rested his hand in his chin, observing him affectionately. The way the afternoon sun shined across his dark hair… he was utterly beautiful. Edward giggled when Lyman crumpled up another piece of paper, causing him to gasp, and his eyes to shoot up to meet Edward’s.   
  
“Mr. Rutledge!” His voice cracked adorably but Edward was too stunned to smile. They both faced each other in silence, their eyes locked. After what felt like hours, Lyman finally spoke. “Were you… watching me?”   
  
Edward blinked. “No. I simply… wanted to ask you something,” He lied. Lyman seemed to relax a little.

 

“Oh? Of course, what is it?” He asked, his eyebrows raised inquisitively.    
  
Dammit. He never thought these things through. Idiot.    
  
As Lyman stared at him with those puppy-dog eyes he tried to think of something to say. He swallowed.   
  
“There’s a… ball of sorts being held at Carpenter’s Hall tonight. Are you going?” At least he wasn’t making things up. There was, in fact, a ball being held. And although he loved dancing he wasn’t planning on going. But perhaps he’d change his mind. Lyman scratched his chin.   
  
“I had no idea. I’m not one for… parties.” Noticing Edward’s slightly crestfallen face, he added, “But… perhaps I will. It’ll be good to meet new people.”    
  
Edward smiled, now resolved to attend. “Then I shall see you there.” Hall smiled in return.   
  
“I can’t wait.”


	5. Chapter 5

Lyman arrived at Carpenter’s Hall at quarter-past-seven, and Edward was nowhere to be seen. Small groups of finely dressed men and women moved about the room, some dancing and some making quiet conversation. Uniformed colonial officers were scattered about the crowd, their blue and gold uniforms on full display, swords dangling at their hips. Gentle violin and piano music filled the ballroom. Young women in ornate, full-bosomed dresses hung on the arms of young officers and neatly-dressed men, some in powdered wigs and others with their long hair tied up immaculately. Although he’d made quite an effort to dress up, Lyman felt quite uncomfortable, as he usually did at large social gatherings. He smoothed his silk waistcoat nervously. He hung to the corner, trying, perhaps without realizing it, to make himself invisible. He scanned the crowd for someone he recognized. Calm faces filled the crowd, people laughing, talking, dancing with their partners. He inched back further into the corner, absentmindedly chewing on his thumb nail. Hardly anyone from congress was there. He noticed Dickinson and Wilson off to one side of the room, but after what had happened on his first day he’d hardly consider Dickinson good company. Christ, he needed a drink. He shook his head. No, that was a slippery slope. His hands in his pockets, he resolved himself to at least stop looking like such a creep. He stepped out of the corner and at least tried to act like he wanted to be there. 

He felt sets of eyes on him and immediately stared down at his shoes. Damn, he didn’t belong here. He resignedly turned to leave when he was hit with a rush of warm air as the large front doors swung open. The whole room seemed to go silent as Edward appeared in the doorway, framed by the night sky and the glow of the gas lamps. The golden lamp light reflected off of his hair like a sort of halo, and his aloof manner caused him to look entirely ethereal. His stark white tailcoat hung down to his knees, squared neatly on his shoulders, giving him an almost regal look. He held his chin high, his ginger bangs swept across his forehead. Lyman swallowed. 

The whole world seemed to be set in motion when Edward moved, his long, delicate legs in shining, black boots. The tail of his coat flared out behind him as he moved, crossing the warmly lit room with a graceful elegance. If he knew that all of the eyes in the room were on him, he clearly didn’t show it. His handsome face carried a vague look of disinterest as his gaze swept the room. When his pale eyes locked with Hall’s dark, nervous ones, the facade of impassivity melted away and he practically skipped over to where Lyman was standing, grinning broadly. Lyman smiled nervously, fidgeting slightly with his silk cravat. Edward’s smile was infectious. He paused a few feet in front of him, bouncing up and down slightly on his toes.

“Doctor Hall! I’m glad you came! I’ll admit, I wasn’t entirely convinced you would,” He said, his expression radiating warmth and affection. Hall chuckled, feeling slightly more relaxed by Edward’s mere presence.

“Ah, your lack of faith in me is depressing, Edward,” he joked. He shouldn’t have called him that, far too informal. He mentally kicked himself. Edward didn’t seem to mind. He laughed out loud, grabbing Lyman’s forearm gently and hailed a servant from the opposite side of the room.

“Come, let’s get a drink. You look like you could use one. Unless you’re trying to look like a frightened owl.” Edward winked.

Hall smiled at Edward, quite taken by his debonair disposition, entirely different from the nervous young man from earlier. He was in his element. Edward leaned over to the servant and spoke raptly.

“A glass of red wine for me,” he ordered and glanced over at Lyman. “What would you like to drink, doctor?”  
“Just water, thank you.”

“And a rum for my friend!” 

Hall coughed, his eyes wide. “Edward!” 

Edward laughed, his freckled cheeks going slightly pink. “Come on, doctor! Loosen up a little.”

Hall pouted, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. Perhaps this was turning out to be a mistake. Edward noticed his companion’s sullen expression and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Lyman, you’re fine.” He smiled, “Nobody cares that you’re awkward.” 

The sound of his name rolling off of Edward’s tongue in that deep, fluid voice sent a shiver up Lyman’s spine. His cheeks flushed red and he quickly grabbed his rum to hide his face from Edward. 

“A toast,” Announced Edward, raising his wine glass in the air, “To your new career as a statesman.” Edward smiled as their glasses clinked, and turned his head slightly to stare at the far wall, over the heads of small groups milling about the room. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up this facade. He played the part of the nonchalant aristocrat, but on the inside, he was melting. He had no idea what he was doing. His glass trembled slightly in his hand and he swallowed. He looked over at Lyman, who looked composed, if a bit uncomfortable. He smiled to himself. He hadn’t pegged him as the partying type, but he was glad that he came. Edward bit his lip and was glad that Hall’s attention was clearly taken elsewhere, so that he wouldn’t notice Edward staring. 

He looked fantastic. A teal tailcoat that perfectly framed his lithe arms and shoulders, bringing out the dark clarity of his eyes. His hair was tied neatly with a silk ribbon behind his back, and if it hadn’t been for his nervous demeanor he would have looked perfectly like he belonged. 

Edward placed his glass down on a table and bit his lip. It was now or never.

Lyman blinked as he felt Edward’s eyes on him. He turned to him, curious, to see him biting his lip, his debonair facade from earlier completely gone. His gaze shifted momentarily out over the crowd, couples were gently crossing the floor, holding each other warmly in their dances. The music had softened to something warm and flowing, the light tones filling the room. It had done little to ease Edward’s tension, Lyman noticed. Lyman looked at him expectantly, the younger man’s pale eyes flitting about restlessly. Lyman was taken aback when Edward locked eyes with him pointedly, placing a thin hand on his bicep. Lyman swallowed.

“Doctor Hall… I hope this isn’t too forward but…” Edward paused and Lyman felt a mixture of anxiety and butterflies fill his stomach. “May I… request a dance?”

Edward blinked, and Lyman stood there, unable to process what he’d asked. A dance?! Here? In front of all these people?!

“Of course, Mr. Rutledge,” He replied with professionalism, to mask the panic he was feeling inside. “I mean… Edward,” He added.

Edward’s nervous face quickly grinned, and Lyman noticed how he resembled a beam of sunlight, warming the soul of whoever accompanied him. Lyman smiled despite himself. He had to hold in laughter as Edward’s face was overtaken with seriousness as he smoothed his clothes and bowed politely, leading him to the center of the room. He took the doctor’s hand and, while averting his gaze, pressed a kiss to it. Lyman was suddenly wracked with nerves as he realized how many people were looking at them. Edward seemingly noticed this and took control, grasping Hall’s hand tightly in his own, and guiding his other hand to his own hip. He placed his free hand on Lyman’s shoulder and smiled nervously. The two gently moved back and forth, not quite meeting each other’s gaze.

“I’ve never done this before,” Edward admitted quietly.

“What? Danced with a man?” Edward shook his head.

“No, danced with someone I liked.” 

Lyman laughed quietly. 

“I think… this is my first time, too.” Lyman turned over Edward’s statement in his mind for a few quiet minutes. “So… you like me?” He tried to keep a jovial tone but he was incredibly curious. Edward didn’t respond for a while.

“Yes. I believe I do.” He paused, trying to maintain his composure, “And… I hope you like me as well.” 

Lyman nodded silently, trying his best to contain the waves of utter elation that flooded his brain. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest, and he leaned closer to Edward in an attempt to hide his face. His anxiety rose in his chest but he ignored it, feeling safe and comfortable for once, although everyone was watching him. The two men stayed like that for hours, until the rest of the crowd had dispersed. The musicians had stopped playing over an hour ago, so they simply moved back and forth in silence. Edward blinked sleepily before murmuring, “I do believe we were meant to leave a while ago, Lyman.”

“Mmh, I hadn’t noticed.” Lyman’s eyes were closed, showing he was just as tired as Edward. Edward leaned away against his better wishes and loosened his hand from Lyman’s grip.  
“I believe we should head home,” Edward pointed out quietly, “Before you pass out on your feet.”

Lyman frowned as Edward pulled away from him, but nodded, clearly exhausted. One hand on his lower back, Edward gently guided him to the door, smiling softly at his companion. After a few minutes, he’d hailed carriages for the both of them. They stood there in the moonlight awkwardly, not meeting each other’s eyes.

“I shall… see you Monday morning?” Lyman asked casually. Edward nodded, looking slightly nervous.

“Yes. You shall.” A few moments passed before Edward quickly leaned in, pressing a kiss to Lyman’s cheek, and hopped into his carriage. “Well, goodnight then,” He said as he shut the door, leaving Lyman standing, stunned, in the street.


	6. Chapter 6

Edward woke up in a bit of a hungover daze, blinking sleepily against the bright sunlight that filtered in through the translucent curtains. He shivered as a cold breeze rushed over him, causing the thin curtains to flutter aimlessly and a stack of papers to be pushed to the floor. He tugged the silk sheet higher on his bare chest. He let his eyes fall closed again, lying quietly in his bed, the only audible sounds being the rhythmic ticking of the tall clock in the corner, and his own light breathing. He winced slightly at the dull pain that pounded behind his eyes. Perhaps he’d had a bit too much wine last night. The morning air blowing in through the window was rather frigid, a welcome change from the hot, humid weather that was common in Philadelphia. He sighed, still incredibly tired from staying up so late the night before, but nonetheless, he swung his legs out of bed, grimacing as he left the warm comfort of his blankets. He gave an involuntary shiver as his stockinged feet touched the cold floor and stood up slowly, stretching his bare arms above his head with a yawn. He padded quietly over to the window and, with a slight grunt, forced it open, another rush of wind causing the rest of his papers to fall to the floor.

Squinting into the bright morning sun, he leaned out the window, the crisp morning air pushing his bangs across his forehead. He breathed in deeply, the scent of morning dew still fresh on the grass below. Perhaps it had rained last night. He’d been too tired to tell.

“Good morning, Mr. Rutledge!”

Ned gasped at the sudden call from below and jumped, slamming the back of his head on the window frame. He gave a sharp cry of pain and hastily scanned the ground below to find the source of the call.   
A few floors below him, leaning against an unlit lamp post was his date from the previous night, a certain Mr. Lyman Hall, smiling up at him smugly. Edward felt his cheeks turn red and wasn’t quite sure what to say. He smiled down at him nervously, feeling slightly awkward being entirely shirtless.

“Good morning!”

Lyman had been standing there for a good half hour before Edward had woken up. In his own defense, he’d woken up early and couldn’t seem to fall back asleep, and decided it might be better to go for a walk. Playing the events of last night fondly over in his head, he thought it might be a good idea to pay Edward a visit. Perhaps he was being too forward. Still, a smile forced its way onto his face as Edward leaned out the window, warm sunlight bringing out the light red color of his hair. His tired eyes sparkled like ice as he gazed out aimlessly upon the city, the freckles on his cheeks becoming all the more noticeable, even from a distance. His ginger hair spilled down over his pale shoulders, freed from the neat ribbon that usually kept it in place. Freckles were scattered across his chest and stomach, pale skin dappled by sunlight. His arms were thin and delicate, largely unused to manual labor, though a few scars on his shoulders and chest glinted in the bright light. Long, neatly manicured fingers curled around the window frame loosely as he leaned out of the window. Lyman bit his lip, trying to tear his eyes away from those delicate shoulders and hips, trying not to imagine those thin fingers gripping his shoulders tightly, his nails leaving painful marks on his skin. Those soft lips pressed forcefully into his own, his tongue desperately grazing over Edward's teeth.

When he realized what he was doing, his face flushed and he forced himself to break eye contact with the man in the window. His tongue poked out of his mouth nervously and he blinked awkwardly up at Edward. He wasn't sure what to say; he didn't think he'd get this far. A smug smile tugged at Edward's mouth, and Lyman suddenly felt like quite an idiot. He swallowed, trying to find the right words. Luckily, Edward’s cool, offhand manner had returned to him and he smirked down at the man below him.

“Is it common practice in Georgia for men to shout at people from the street? And for a man of your age…” He didn’t have to finish his sentence as Lyman scowled up at him indignantly. His dark eyebrows furrowed and his arms folded over his chest as he fixed Edward with a glare. Edward fought to hold back laughter as he leaned farther out of the window, his long hair framing his face perfectly. “And especially this early in the morning…” He yawned deeply for effect. “God knows what you could be interrupting.

Lyman’s face flushed red and he whipped around to face the wall behind him for a moment to collect himself. He buried his face in his hands, any ounce of his previous charm long gone. This was not how he’d expected this to go. Still, he could hear Edward giggling quietly behind him and he fought to hold back a smile despite himself. He took a deep breath and turned around again, facing the smiling man above him.

“Well, seeing as it is Sunday and we don’t have to go to work, I was hoping to ask you to go out for a walk. But seeing as I’m interrupting something…” He sighed, and shrugged with fake hopelessness. “I guess I’ll be on my way then.”

He turned around and started to walk away when he heard a sudden “No!” and a smile tugged on the corners of his lips. He turned around once more to meet Edward’s worried gaze. “I… you don’t have to… you’re not…” Rutledge sputtered.

“But Neddy…” He teased, determined to toy with him, “I’d hate to get in the way of whatever you’re doing. I’m sure it’s very important.”

Edward rolled his eyes, clearly seeing where this was going. “Give me twenty minutes,” He said, before shutting the window. Lyman smiled brightly and sat himself down on a nearby bench. He took off his tricorn and ran a hand through his hair, quite satisfied with how their little conversation had turned out. Still, one sentence ran through his head over and over again.

_“For a man of your age…”_

He swallowed. While he was sure Edward was joking, the thought still preyed on his mind. It always had. The smile faltered from his face and he sighed. He still wasn’t sure why Edward decided to settle for someone like him. Why Edward even enjoyed being around him. Someone as gorgeous and charming as Edward could have anyone he wanted, Lyman thought to himself, it honestly didn’t make any sense. Edward deserved better.

“Hey!”

Lyman gave a sudden yelp as he was roused by his thoughts and was approached by a smiling, fully clothed, Edward. Edward laughed quietly at Lyman’s stunned reaction. He reached out gently, taking Lyman’s hand in his own, and beckoning for him to stand up.

“Are we going?” He asked quietly as Lyman got to his feet. Lyman swallowed, not responding, but nodded, his grip tightening on Edward’s hand. Edward’s eyebrows raised in confusion. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

Lyman opened his mouth to say something but decided against it. Instead, he smiled and pressed a kiss to the back of Edward’s hand, eliciting a startled gasp from the other man. “I’m perfectly alright, Edward,” He said quietly. Edward’s cheeks went red and he stared down at his shoes, walking slowly down the cobblestoned street.

“Edward,” Lyman spoke up, seemingly out of nowhere, “This is a stupid question but…” He trailed off nervously. Edward turned to face him, curiosity evident on his face.

“Yes?”

“Do you…” He swallowed, looking like he was already regretting starting this conversation, “Do you like me?”

Edward laughed out loud at that, causing Lyman to pull his hand away from his, panicked. Edward gave him an apologetic smile, laced with pity and gently reached out for his hand again, taking it tentatively.

“Do I like you?” He smiled, staring down at his buckled shoes again. “Well, yes. I believe I do.” In all honesty, he had no idea where he was walking, but he’d taken the lead so the two men walked aimlessly along the streets of Philadelphia. “I like you very much, actually.”

“Oh.”

“And… do you like me?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Well, that’s good.”

Lyman nodded in affirmation before the two of them broke out into soft laughter. Edward stopped momentarily, bright sunlight from the cloudless sky overhead giving his hair a golden glow, and turned around, freeing his hand from Lyman’s grip and cupping the man’s cheeks in his warm, delicate hands.

“I like you very much,” Edward repeated himself. “More than I’ve ever liked anybody.” Lyman smiled nervously. He would have turned away if not for Edward’s hands gently holding his head in place, his dark eyes locked with Edward’s crystal blue ones.

“I… I like you too. Really,” He mumbled awkwardly. He sounded like a damn schoolboy.

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

Edward smiled and leaned forward, pressing a warm, gentle kiss to Lyman’s lips. Lyman gave a quiet gasp but didn’t pull away. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned in closer to Edward, placing both hands on the man’s hips and pulling him into a warm embrace. The smell of flowers overwhelmed him and he smiled into the kiss. Of course, Edward would wear perfume. He felt one of Edward’s hands slide back, his fingertips gently grazing the nape of his neck. For a moment he heard nothing but the sound of Edward’s breathing, light and warm across his face and a feeling of warmth in his chest overwhelmed him. He slid one hand up Edward’s back and gently laced his fingers through his soft hair, the other arm wrapped around his waist desperately, almost afraid to let go. Edward’s lips were soft, pressed firmly against his own, and he felt, for a moment, like everything in his life was alright. Like everything had a purpose.   
And suddenly it was over. He gave a slight gasp of desperation as Edward pulled away, his breath rattling quietly in his chest. Tears of joy, confusion, desperation formed in the corners of Lyman’s eyes and he quickly pulled Edward closer to him, burying his face in his shoulder. Edward gently rested a hand on Lyman’s back and pressed his cheek into the top of his head. He sighed quietly, suddenly very tired.

“I think…” Lyman mumbled into Edward’s chest, “I think I love you.”

Edward smiled as he felt tears begin to prick in the corners of his eyes. “I think I love you too.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe this is the final chapter. I might do an epilogue but... I don't know yet.

**Author's Note:**

> RedeemNeddy2k17


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